Kill Gabriel!
by PerditaAlottachocolate
Summary: Gabriel's talents and inclinations towards micromanaging the lives of people around him were old news, really. But the time has finally come when he overdid it and soon he'll find a mob of familiar faces knocking on his door. They want his head. The rest is optional.


_Author's Note: This is a birthday crack one shot for Remasa. She knows why._

 _A huge thank you for the lovely Kellarhi for beta reading this. The characters are aged-up, in case it isn't obvious._

* * *

 **Kill Gabriel!**

Marinette stepped into the staircase, gently closed the door behind her, smacked her forehead against the wood and counted to ten. And then...

'I'm going to kill Gabriel Agreste,' she confessed to the doorknob. 'He'll regret he was ever Hawkmoth, that he ever decided to have a fashion empire, and that he designed those red pants he loves so much... because I'm gonna kick him so hard, he's going to see all the akumas he caused on the way to hell.'

She paused at that to take a breath, turned around, and almost jumped out of her skin when she met Emilie's surprised stare.

'Hi, um, hi Emilie!' she wheezed, wishing the carpet could swallow her now. 'What brings you here?'

There was a chance, albeit small, that her boyfriend's mother suffered from sudden hearing loss and hadn't just heard the death threat Marinette cast in a fit of anger.

'I was supposed to have lunch with Sabine,' the woman replied, 'but now I think I'd prefer to have it with you,' she supplied carefully. 'Was it my imagination or did you mention my husband and Hawkmoth in the same sentence?'

'You heard that, huh,' Marinette shuffled her feet. 'Can you pretend you didn't?'

A slender hand landed on the girl's shoulder. 'First of all, I know you well enough to see that something terrible must have happened, because you're not a person to throw curses easily,' Madame Agreste assured her. 'But I've been hearing hints about Hawkmoth since I woke up from the coma. I've been reading about him too, but no one wants to tell me what that was all about. Adrien and Gabriel go all red and change the subject. Nathalie says to check the Ladyblog, and Alya avoids me like the plague since I started asking.'

Marinette looked into sincere green eyes, so similar to Adrien's. There had been an agreement concerning Emilie's come back. The main point was to never mention to her, what the circumstances of her, _ahem_ , "miraculous recovery" were. But it seemed that the moth was out of the bag.

She sighed in defeat. 'How about that lunch?' she offered.

She kept her big fat mouth shut the whole way to the cafeteria. When they found a table and ordered, Emilie looked at her expectantly.

'Okay now, Marinette, tell me everything starting with the reasons for your outburst at the poor door.'

And Marinette did as she was asked. She started with the fact that as of today, she was unemployed (and possibly unemployable) in the fashion industry because a certain fashion mogul mentioned in an interview that she was his "soon to be daughter-in-law" and "practically already a member of Agreste family". Then she moved to how he had stated, in that same interview, that: he had already made reservations for the wedding venue; how her wedding dress was coming out nicely, and that thanks to his visionary design, it would "top even royal wedding dresses"; and how the newlyweds would be happy to come back from their "already booked honeymoon" to their "renewed, comfortable and modern apartment at the Agreste Mansion".

'But… I don't understand,' a very confused Madame Agreste asked after a while. 'I had no idea you were even engaged.'

A high pitched whine ripped from the back of Marinette's throat. 'We aren't,' she seethed.

'Oh. _Oooooh,_ ' Emilie gasped. 'But what does it have to do with Hawkmoth, dear?'

Marinette took a deep breath. 'Oh, boy, where do I begin?'

About half an hour, two coffees and quiches later, Madame Agreste rose from her seat and smashed a few bills onto the table.

'Thank you, honey, for this little talk,' she turned to Marinette. 'But let's go, I believe we have a Gabriel Agreste to kill.'

* * *

'We're going to kill Gabriel A-greste, Gabriel A-greste, Gabriel A-greste,' Chloe sing-sung as she followed the hail cloud that went under the name of Adrien Agreste to his limo.

'Chloe, this is not a joke!' her friend snapped at her.

'Who's joking?' she blinked at him. 'Do you have any idea how many years I've been waiting for this?'

Adrien turned to her, frowning.

'Okay,' she amended. 'Maybe I am joking just a tiny little bit. But I can't even count all the times I wanted to suffocate your dear old man for how he treated you.'

'Well then,' Adrien muttered darkly. 'You need to stand in line, because as his son I get a go first.'

'Are you sure though?' Chloe chirped sweetly. 'It's only a ring, after all.'

'It's not _only a ring_ , Chlo!' he finally blew up. 'It's a ring, a wedding venue, a honeymoon, living arrangements,' he counted on his fingers. 'And let's not forget all this was mentioned in an international interview before I even got the chance to _ask Marinette to be my wife!_ '

The girl winced and looked around. 'People are staring, Adribear,' she said conversationally.

'I don't care!' he ranted. 'I'm going to kill Gabriel Agreste,' he announced to the accidental audience that had gathered in front of the Hôtel de Ville. Are you with me or not?'

'Let me just get my gloves,' Chloe grinned, cocking a hip. 'We don't want to leave any fingerprints, Adrihoney.' Plus it always paid off to keep up appearances.

* * *

'I'm going to kill Gabriel Agreste, if that's okay with you, babe,' Nino popped his head into the kitchen.

'Sure, hon,' Alya sipped her coffee, 'If you need advice on hiding the body, I heard the Agreste mansion has a great repository at sub basement level.'

Nino snickered humorlessly and sagged into a chair next to her.

'You know I support you in everything 100% and no matter what,' the girl reached out to ruffle his hair. 'But care to tell me where this murderous plan came from?'

'Apparently Monsieur Agreste wasn't sure which date to pick for Adrien's wedding, so just in case he booked three months of my time. As a result I was dropped from Jagged's jubilee, three large festivals _and_ a movie project,' Nino rubbed his eyes.

'Adrien's wedding?' Alya raised her brow.

'Ah, yes,' he grinned at her. 'You might want to check _Fashionista_ 's site for their newest interview.'

She had the page loaded even before he stopped talking. 'Why did no one tell me Adrien proposed?!' she exclaimed. 'I was at Marinette's only yesterday.'

'That's because Adrien _hasn't_ proposed,' Nino supplied, amused with her agitation. 'We went ring hunting, like, three days ago but found nothing he liked.'

'And you're saying that Gabriel's idea cost you…'

'... at least five gigs with great publicity and hmm… great company as well,' he finished. 'You know, I'm tempted to borrow Nooroo and make it look like an accident.'

Alya skipped over the interview once again. 'Wedding dress... the rings... the venue...,' she muttered, 'the honeymoon, apartment _at Agreste Mansion_?!' she choked on her coffee.

Nino shrugged.

'C'mon, babe,' she stood up and poked her finger into his back. 'We're leaving.'

'Where to?' Nino goggled at her.

'To kill Gabriel Agreste, of course,' Alya shot, grabbing her jacket.

* * *

Nathalie was having a peaceful afternoon. The rush of calls and e-mails after Gabriel's unexpected interview for _the Fashionista_ had finally died out and she was able to focus on her actual job. Her boss locked himself in his atelier early in the morning and stayed there, which was another bonus. She could enjoy her coffee and croissant snack and get on with her tasks for the day.

That was, until the intercom buzzed angrily.

It shouldn't have buzzed at all. Gabriel had no appointments, Adrien minded his own schedule - coming and going as he pleased, and Emilie was supposed to get back in the evening.

It also shouldn't have buzzed _angrily_. As standard equipment, it was supposed to be able to sound exactly once, and was always the same tone. So was it her imagination that the bell sounded extremely pissed?

 _Murrrr-derrrr, murrrr-derrrr,_ it rang in the empty space of her office. Nathalie looked at the screen only to discover a mob of familiar faces staring back at her. They didn't look happy and apparently the bell shared their mood.

She punched the button to open the gate and rushed to the door.

Scowling, Emilie crossed the threshold first, with an embarrassed Marinette at her heels. Then Adrien ushered the rest of his friends inside. They all looked furious with the exception of mademoiselle Bourgeois who was apparently having the time of her life.

'Is Gabriel in his office?' Madame Agreste asked.

'We're here to kill him,' Alya supplied as a way of explanation.

'Just imagine the pitchforks and torches,' Nino added gravely. 'We didn't have time to shop. Probably gonna use our bare hands.'

Nathalie's gaze traveled to Chloe who shrugged.

'Don't look at me,' she said. 'I'm here for moral support and to hold their metaphorical coats. Plus I wouldn't wanna miss it,' she admitted.

Adrien rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and Nino mimicked his movement. Then the assembly chose to approach the door to the atelier.

Nathalie stood in front of it and glared at them. 'Is this about the interview?'

'That depends,' Emilie muttered darkly.

'It's not about the interview,' Adrien sighed, 'but the interview played a vital part in this.'

'Now move and let us do our thing,' Alya piped in.

'I'm sorry but I can't allow you to do this,' Nathalie stated solemnly, clutching her pen like a sword.

'Are you kidding me?' Chloe called from the back of the mob.

The assistant took a deep breath and fixed them with a scowl so sour they stepped back.

'If anyone is going to kill Gabriel,' she announced, 'it's going to be me!'

* * *

Gabriel was quite content with the fruits of his labor that day. He'd advanced on a few designs that were giving him trouble, including the wedding dress. Ah, he was certain Marinette would love the final result. It would be a perfect wedding gift (one of a few actually), and worthy of a "princess" of Paris, as Adrien was calling her. He based the design on Emilie's wedding dress, artfully connecting past and future into a stunning masterpiece, if he said so himself.

Keeping everything a secret was giving him trouble, but soon his son would finally propose — hopefully with the ring Gabriel had crafted with the young couple in mind. Then, the soon-to-be bride and groom would choose a date, and he would be able to complete preparations.

Having to do everything by himself, without even Nathalie's assistance, had been really draining. For example— he didn't understand half of the emails Nino's agent sent him when he wanted to book the boy's services for the engagement and wedding parties, and the afterparty for any remaining guests. Creating plans to refresh Adrien's old room and adjust it to the newlyweds' needs was another pain in his red clad ass.

Decisions, decisions, decisions. The amount of matters he had to decide upon had been making him dizzy, but he was content that he would spare Adrien and Marinette so much trouble. It was the least he could do for them after he had turned their school years into a continuous magical war. Thankfully, everyone agreed to keep that a secret from Emilie— Gabriel had no doubts she would have his hide if she ever found out.

He checked the calendar. Exactly one month from now, his interview for _the Fashionista_ would be published. He hoped Adrien would pop the question soon enough, so that everything would be ready. He was admittedly a little bit anxious; because keeping the secret had been so difficult, he may have bragged a bit about his efforts to the journalist. But, he supposed, as long as the people involved would do what he expected before the article came out, everything would be fine.

Now it was time to call it a day and get some rest before Emilie got back for dinner. Gabriel turned off his computer and headed to the door only to be stopped by vexed voices on the other side of it. It sounded as if someone was having a hushed argument about killing someone else.

Ah well, he'd accomplished so many great things today, maybe he could perform another good deed. He definitely had a _huge_ karma debt to pay. He opened the door and discovered an angry mob consisting of his family members and their friends, as well as his assistant.

'Can I help… you?' he faltered mid-question.

They glowered at him gravely, making him take a step back under the sheer force of their gaze.

'Someone died?' Gabriel asked, confused with their reaction.

'Not yet!' the Bourgeois girl chirped from the back.

'Not yet,' Emilie echoed, putting her hands on her hips and quirking her brow.

Uh-oh. He was in trouble. If only he knew why.

* * *

 _AN:_ _Happy Birthday, Rem! I hope you like your gift!_

 _And the rest of you lovely readers. What do you say? I appreciate your reviews greatly!_

 _Maybe I should explain that Remmy always nags that I kill Gabe a lot in my fics (which I do not) and I usually reply that I might kill him for real out of spite. And this, ladies and gentlechats is how this crack was born._

 _For more miraculous content visit Rem's and mine profiles on fanfiction, or my tumblr blog: perditaalottachocolate-blog . tumblr . com ._


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